Where do you find your song? Will the holes in your pockets leave you all alone?

Brick man rust red

Out on the street newspaper in his head

Full of words like railroad tracks

They pile up in numbered stacks

When the gypsy lady drowns out on her sinking ship

With the name of the dead man still tattooed on her lips

Let the wind whistle on her howling song

Will the lost words leave you all alone